Not edited very well, but you should be able to get the point. Please forgive the typos. Not as pissed about the event as I was early Sunday morning when I started writing it. Lol...I hope no one reads this and thinks I have a black cloud over my head. I'm so over it, but, yeah, not going there again ;)

- Jason

So I'm in this apartment. On this strange woman's bed. Strange woman is in the bathroom...

Her bathroom. Her apartment.

Something really didn't feel right. I didn't feel right. I'm not sure how I got into this situation. I just stared up at the ceiling and asked myself if I really want to do what I was pretty sure she wanted to do.

I guess since I'm a guy, I'm somehow supposed to get excited that, yeah, more than likely, I was going to get laid. Cute girl. Almost too cute. I guess the fact that it took less than an hour to go from a friendly conversation to heavy petting to a very quick makeout session to her place probably means something to somebody.

An apartment decorated in pink. Girly pink. There's a Green Beer Day tee shirt on the floor, an empty Red Bull can and a unopened diet coke on the nightstand. There's a poster of Big Ben, the Super Bowl hero, on the wall, next to a picture of Heath Ledger.

Why the hell do I feel trapped?

For some reason, I started thinking about a conversation I had with Stephi, one of my fellow OxBloggers, recently. She said something that, for some reason, stuck with me. Something about overly aggressive women being less creepy than overly aggressive guys in bars.

Why the hell did that pop into my mind?

---

I've never understood why I can't read women very well. At least, why I can't read women who are interested in me or who I'm attracted to. No frigging clue how to read body language if I'm just getting to know someone.

I guess that's the No. 1 reason I've always gone for aggressive women. Aggressive women tend not to put up with my self-esteem issues, my fear and self-loathing. I think the fact that it takes a bit of aggression to convince me to let down my guard a bit is the reason aggressive women go for me.

Trust me. For a woman to make it past my signal-reading blindness, my baggage, and other shit, she's going to have to be aggressive. And some women actually like that challenge, I guess.

But is there such thing as a woman who is too aggressive? At what point does sexual or romantic pursuit become simply a demand, completely free of respect for another human being, mechanical and detached?

As I'm staring at the ceiling in this woman's apartment, her cell phone starts bouncing on the nightstand. I ignore it. A.'s still in the bathroom - perhaps the longest pre-whatever ritual I've ever witnessed a woman go through. Damn thing goes off again. And again.

I might have been amused if I hadn't gotten nosy and read the other two messages. (Sure, it's probably unethical, but what the hell? I've been tempted to ask the probation officer who reads this blog to screen dates and, yes, I google on the first date.)

"GIRL 7PTS 8IF CB GOS DOWN"

"K WILL HATE U U FUCK HIM FIRST 8PTS BEATS HER PROF"

Um...excuse me? If someone fucks mefirst? Do I have a say in this? I am not a goddamned pointspread. And this ain't the fucking Kentucky Derby.

---

A. walks out of the bathroom. She changed clothes. (Who the hell changes outfits after getting home? She puts on the radio - some god-awful Top 40 shit. She puts on my Stetson - without asking - grins, and starts to do the absolute worst spoiled-rich-girl version of a striptease this side of a Paris Hilton sex tape.

I probably should've laughed. But I'd made up my mind that, yeah, I just wanted to go home. I'd just lost interest.

Physically, sure. Still...um...functionable. That's never been one of my problems - hell, I almost married someone with a clinical sex addiction (along with her other clinical addictions and problems.) Trust me, women aren't the only ones who can fake it 'til they get it right.

I'm not a bet. I'm not my penis. She can lie and say something happened for all I care. I'm done. Gone.

She's down to her underwear when I stand up; she pushes me back on the bed, straddles me, kisses me. I turn my head, say I think I'd better leave, that I'm just not in the mood. She doesn't believe me, forcibly kisses me and starts pulling at my belt. I pull back again, and this time I ask about the text messages.

She ignored me and tried shoving her tongue down my throat again. She had my belt undone. So I pushed her off me, got up, and started walking to the bedroom door.

Then she went apeshit. She tried to stop me from leaving by blocking the door. She started accusing me of everything from being a "faggot" to being a "no-dick chickenshit." She screamed about how she'd just find another guy to get her "fucking points."

Yeah. That's called emotional blackmail, lady. Not gonna work.

And then she tried crying. I didn't want her. I was using her. I led her on... I was almost dumb enough to fall for it. She tried kissing me again - I almost gave in. Almost. I just couldn't bring myself to kiss her back.

She even explained the "grading scale." You know what the "prize" was? A drink and some fucking buffalo wings at a bar.

I just had to stay, just had to make her feel good, just had to...

Even after indicating that this wasn't something I wanted to do, she stuck one hand down my pants and used the other to unzip my fly. I guess I sort of zoned out for a few seconds.

I realized she was trying to go down on me. And I flipped the fuck out. What the flying fuck? Get back on your meds, lady. Seriously.

I made it out the apartment, climbed into my truck and pounded my fist into the steering wheel. I must've sat there for a good hour, listening to the engine idle and the radio play.

How the fuck did I get into that apartment in the first place?

I wondered how those other eight guys felt. Did they know the only reason they got laid was to help a very disturbed, insecure woman win some free chicken?

Shayna:Yeah...don't like feeling like I'm being pressured to do something I don't really want to do. And I'm not exactly dumb meat, so I don't want to be treated that way. I like sex, but I'm not going to be coerced into doing something to win some damned chicken wings at a Buffalo Wind Wings.

WB:Man, feel free to share. I'm interested, too. Yeah, it started out sounding like it was going to be entertaining for me as well...unfortunately...yeah.

Smurf:Yeah. Sounds kinda like stuff I've been through in the past, huh?

Cowgirl:Lol...yeah, the alternative would've been a bitch...literally. I haven't felt that exploited in a looong time. and I'm kinda curious to Wombat's tale as well...hmm...

DCS:Actually, just imagine a Gilmore-Girls-vs.-Fatal Attraction scenario. Lol...trust me, you are being kind. I think I'm giving up on dating here. Lord...

I have to say that I'm really impressed by your ability to walk away from a situation like this with a sense of humor about it. I imagine this happens to many men and the figure that it's more important to 'get some' than to walk off with their dignity and some semblance of character.

I do wonder how you got to that apartment though. She could have easily been like that female serial killer in "Monster". Much more attractive no doubt, but who notices those things when there is heavy petting involved?

DCS:Lord, I wish. No, tomorrow...meetings galore and preparing to go take care of my injured grandmother. I'm actually being better at keeping up with the blog as a bit of an escape valve, I guess. The only woman I'm concerned about is G'maw :)

Let:Lol..don't be too impressed...my sense of humor here kinda hides the Real World scenario a bit. Honestly, I was scared shitless. I actually had a few PTSD flashbacks...A LOT of my self-estem issues come from the fact that I've allowed myself to be manipulated into doing things I really didn't want to do. I really felt violated (as cliche as that sounds.)

Good question. I forgo I edited that profanity-laced (yes, MORE profanity) part out. Basically, Oxford is a tiny place. The person in question lives in an apartment complex near the street where I live...I was giving her a lift home, we started talking in my truck, and things happened. Not sure why. Probably, at least on my art, because, damn, this town is an extremely lonely place when you're over 24. Sometimes I feel like I'm living a preppy-college-town version of Logan's Run, waiting to die when I hit 30 and am no longer marketable. That takes a toll on a person after a while.

Don't know if it makes any sense, but judgment tends to get impaired when somebody shows a guy some attention (and it's not affiliated with an online presence :)and SEEMS to at least have some common interests. I'm just glad nothing happened.

I'm not going to read the other comments, I don't want to be " influenced:.

I certainly don't know how you get yourself into these messes. You either 1. drink too much or 2. drink too much.

I mean seriously if you don't know the girls why go home with them. If you just want to fuck them fuck them and if that is not what you want try bothering with a few decent relationships that don't involve sex.There are ways to saty out of these situations. I don't think people find themselves in these types of situations that often unless they want to. Maybe you don't even know it but it's like some kind of weird compulsion. You obviously know by now that some girls are like that it is really not that hard to discern and I think you know it.

It seems impressive that you walk away but it also seems to have way too many of these types of encounters for it to happenstance. Nothing happens that often by mistake.

Cooper:Actually, it has less to do with drinking and more to do with the fact that I'm going to be 28 in a month and there are times I act like I'm going on 14 again. I may drink, but I rarely get drunk. Wasn't drunk here. Completely conscious and aware of my surroundings. If I had been...lord. It's hard to explain, I guess, and it's something I skirt around talking about here, but a lot of it has to do with the fact that I give people a lot more credit than I should in terms of judging character and I judge the wrong people too harshly.

Thing is, I don't want to fuck anyone. Sex is fun, but I'd really just like to have a nice, peaceful relationship at this point in my life...with an emotionally and at least mildly mentally stable person. (That hasn't happened often.) Honestly, there's always somebody that you can fuck. I don't like being a placeholder or a bedwarmer very much - that's what I've been for too many people - the other man, the affair, the fling, the fuck buddy, and the break-up excuse.

As for compulsions, well, duh :) It's tied to being a domestic abuse survivor and cycles of abuse. I'm at the point where I feel comfortable saying I broke the holding-pattern that almost led to my early demise, but I'm still trying to figure out what to do next. And here, I did slip back into that old comfort pattern - that's why I flipped out. I'd also known this person for a few weeks - looks ike I chopped that part out of the final post (oops). Not completely a random stranger. I was more worried about trying to figure out if she was interested in me to actually stop and figure out if I was interested in her.

It's funny, too, that you mention people finding themselves in situations unless they want it - that's what a lot of folks say about female rape victims. They asked for it. They shouldn't have been drunk, or hanging out with those people. I told a female friend about this weekend - a rape survivor herself - and she got mad that I didn't call the cops. She reminded me that even though I blew off the situation as being simply an just a bad situation, the fact that no means no is gender neutral. I still don't think what happened was attempted rape, but writing about it now does make me think about it.

I've posted on it before, but I'm tired of trying to explain it. I had too many emails from folks who read one too many pamphlets who were frankly either too stupid or too sheltered to realize that yeah, there are men who are survivors of domestic violence as well and deal with the aftermath in their own ways. Unless you've been there, there's really no explaining it. That's actually why I get so damned neurotic when I have any kind of relationship - I'm trying to figure out which path I want to walk.

DCS:Oh, thank you so much! Bless you! Yes, I'll post an update later today - I've heard she's in better shape than was initially thought, and the fact that she's able to talk is a miracle.

sex is a very interesting subject as for most its about power. How that power plays out varies so much from person to person.

I found out I was different since for me sex was never about power but about learning, sharing and good feelings. This made it all very much more interesting after talking all my partners and getting a better feel for the spread of emotions it covers between the power or the very short list of the other reasons.

In the end, we all have issues, and sex is one place where those issues come up and to the forefront, yet no one clearly defines it, leaving you to be a mind reader to understand it all.

Once I discovered it was about power for most people, it then became very easy to reconcile my world sex view with others and my partners, and much more fun in the education of myself and partners to a hell of a lot better sex to boot.

No matter what we all have issues, just when having sex its best to screw around with those whose issues compliment your own, rather than crack them apart deeper.

Its hard to contain all the strange jumble emotions after such an encounter and sounds like you are sorting it out pretty well, even if it is confusing as heck

"It's funny, too, that you mention people finding themselves in situations unless they want it - that's what a lot of folks say about female rape victims. They asked for it. They shouldn't have been drunk, or hanging out with those people. I told a female friend about this weekend - a rape survivor herself - and she got mad that I didn't call the cops. She reminded me that even though I blew off the situation as being simply an just a bad situation, the fact that no means no is gender neutral. I still don't think what happened was attempted rape, but writing about it now does make me think about it."

Led Zeppelin: Coda (1982)
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[image: Untitled]
Coda compiles eight unused tracks and fulfills a contractual obligation
with the record company. It's not a bad collection, but I do not v...

1 day ago

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